The Secret of the Unicorn: Victoria Unfolded
by aingea9867
Summary: Victoria Jones, a 14 year old failing novelist, has been struck down with a fatal disease that causes her to constantly lose blood- through her mouth, nose, wherever it may be. It was all part of the thugs' plan to steal the Unicorn model. After she is saved by Tintin in an abandoned schoolhouse, they go off on an adventure to cure her disease and recapture the Unicorn model.
1. Chapter 1: Lost

CHAPTER 1: LOST

"Get me out of here!" she yelled, struggling against the chains that held her, grabbing at the doorknob. "I'm innocent! Please! Help me!"

3 days earlier…

It was just Victoria, walking down the abandoned hallways of the classrooms, occasionally tripping over her own feet. She flipped through her history book, her 2 pigtail braids flipping back and forth, studying the words carefully.

"What do they mean?" she muttered to herself, vigorously flipping the pages to early Europe, page 157. It had happened so suddenly. She clutched her stomach, sinking to the floor. Little did she know of her fatal disease. The chronic bleeding, the stinging pain. She forced herself to stand up and hobble over to the nurse's office. It was locked. The door to her survival was locked. She groaned, coughing up blood. Victoria saw black spots before her eyes. She knew it was her end. She imagined her tombstone:

Victoria Jones

Died at age age 15

R.I.P.

Just before she thought she was dead, she heard a voice.

"What's that, Snowy?"

Someone else was in there.

She coughed even louder. "Help… help me," she even muttered out one time. The coughing got worse, allowing a pool to flood from her mouth, allowing the abnormally light red liquid to stain her face.

"Wait up Snowy!" the voice echoed. Suddenly, Victoria felt something warm against her body. _Fur_, she guessed. A dog. It must have been the "Snowy" that voice was talking about. A light shone in her eyes. She squinted them shut, coughing up more blood. She heard footsteps getting closer to her. She saw quick flashes of a model ship, someone coming through the window, taking it and climbing back out of the window. The footsteps got even closer until they stopped.

"Good job, Snowy. How did she get in here?" the voice muttered. It was definitely a young man.

"I… I study here," she coughed.

"Oh no, we need to get her to a doctor!" he said. Victoria opened her eyes slightly to see a pair of light green eyes and ginger hair.

"My books," she muttered. "I have a note in my books. I need it… Page *cough* 157." The teenager dug into the history book, flipping to page 157. A small note fell out. She coughed again, her blood trickling farther away.

"There it is," she forced out before closing her eyes, her face chalk white from blood loss.

* * *

Victoria opened her eyes to a crisp, white room. Her throat was dry, her mouth tasted like metal. Her left cheek was covered in dried blood. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a sound like a croaking frog, even a possibly dying frog. She turned her head to see a young man sitting beside the bed. He had red hair and light green eyes. _He was the one who saved me_, she thought. The white dog that stood beside him was stained light red, possibly from her blood. She jolted awake.

"The... The Unicorn model! It's gone!" she screamed, grabbing at the sheets. "Where is it?!"

"Whoa, calm down!" the ginger said. "What... What model?"

"Well, I study genetics and maritime, and I have a model of a ship. It was triple masted, double decked, and it had fifty guns. It just... Disappeared! I know it!"

"How did you know it had been stolen if you were in that abandoned schoolhouse?"

"I know! I saw it! I wasn't there, but... I saw it! It was taken from my flat, I know it!"

The ginger pondered for a moment.

"Was it important?" he asked.

"Yes! It was for a story. There is such mystery behind that model. I write novels. They are seldom published, but I send them to the newspaper. I need that model, or I won't be able to live in my flat anymore."

"Of course! You're Victoria Jones! I've seen your articles,"

"Yes, that's me. Hopefully my name will be seen next in the paper and not in a graveyard," she chuckled.

"Tintin," he said, lifting up his dog, "and this is Snowy. Sorry, he needs a bath!"

"No, it was my fault, I was the one coughing up blood!" Victoria laughed. A man walked in, clothed in a white coat.

"I'm afraid I have grave news, Ms. Jones," he said in a deep voice. "Your disease is unknown. There is no way to cure it. We can understand that it is some very rare form of sickle cell disease, but the blood cells are very severely sickle-shaped, causing blood to move through your system irregularly, flowing through your stomach, which alerts your body to throw it up. Unfortunately, you will only live as long as a normal patient with this disease does. With proper care, 40 will most likely be your last year." Victoria's eyes opened wide.

"But... Isn't there a way to stop it? I mean, you could always..."

"There's no way. I'm sorry," the doctor said, leaving a clipboard on the counter as he walked out.

"No, I can't..." she stopped suddenly as she felt a hand on hers. She looked at Tintin, surprised. Their eyes met, her sapphire eyes meeting his emerald ones. She looked away slightly.

"It's okay. You have time," he said.

"Can you get me that clipboard?" Victoria asked shyly, gesturing over to the counter. Tintin stood up and grabbed the clipboard, studying it for a moment before handing it to her.

"The blood cells are 'severely sickle-shaped, huh?" she questioned sarcastically. "It was a bullet. Straight through my chest, at that. They wanted me to believe I would only live until my 40th year! Unless... Unless this report is..."

"For someone named Victoria Joan," Tintin said, pointing to the name on the clipboard. It indeed was Victoria Joan. She groaned.

"Just grand! Here I am with a rare disease, and I won't be able to work to pay for my flat! Someone should just kill me now. I would be better off."

"You'll get by, I promise," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I can help you."

"You would do that?" Victoria asked, shocked.

"What building do you live in?" he asked. "I do assume you live off of Grand Plaza."

"Building 157," she said.

"That... That number was the same as the page you left that note in in your book," he riddled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the note. "Don't worry, I didn't look at it," he added, handing it to her. She took it, eagerly reading it, showing Tintin.

"I found this in the mainmast of the model I have. It's a scroll. An interesting poem, I say," she recalled, pointing at the strange markings below the poem. "These... These were what I was studying."

"Strange," he said, looking at the markings carefully, his brow furrowed. "I need a closer look at these. Would you visit my flat sometime? I'm in building 158, on the upper level. Just make sure to avoid Ms. Finch, the landlady. She'll talk your ear off if she gets the chance!" Victoria giggled.

"Of course," she said, pocketing the note. "Hopefully this mystery shall be uncovered. I can keep my job, and hopefully live longer than 40,"

"What a great adventure this is," Tintin said, smiling.


	2. Chapter 2: Shipwreck

CHAPTER 2: SHIPWRECK

Victoria was up and running around a half an hour after Tintin left. She didn't care about the disease at this time, she was just eager to find the model. But the thoughts of the disease were still shoved in the back of her brain. _If they used that blood in my system... Then..._

"I've got it!" she screamed and ran to building 158. When she arrived to the building, she knocked on the door. Nobody answered. She slipped her hand through the crack in the door and unbolted the door, silently creeping into the building. She quietly ran upstairs, one of the stairs slightly creaking as she made her way up. Luckily, no one tried to stop her. She held her breath and knocked on one of the doors. The door opened quickly, a hand grabbing her waist and pulling her in.

"You made it past Ms. Finch," a familiar voice whispered gladly in her ear. She smiled.

"Tintin, you could've just opened the door," she blushed, his arm still around her waist. He turned her around and sat her down in a comfortable chair.

"Anything yet?" he asked, curious about the model.

"No... But I found a way to stop the disease," she said, bringing her thoughts back into full gear. "So, what do you think they had to inject me with because of my blood loss?"

"Blood," he said questionably, kneeling down in front of the chair.

"Well... I had lost a lot of blood. So my blood cells were very minimal. If I had blood injected in me, the blood they must have used was from someone with sickle-cells. I must have already had some. So the combination of the cells created the fatal disease," she said proudly.

"Brilliant," Tintin said. "But who would want to give you a fatal disease?"

"Thugs who want the Unicorn," she said,"because they're hoping I won't even last until 40. Then they can take the Unicorn and get away. Which they already have." She pondered for a moment. "They waited until I was hospitalized, and then they took the Unicorn while I was being given the weak blood. I knew it was weak because of the color. It was too light for normal blood. Because the cells are in pieces," she explained. "It also... Makes it easier to kill me,"

Tintin stayed silent, going over the things Victoria said.

"But if I can get a sample of that blood," she continued, "I can cure the disease with full cells of blood. It makes it... Well, less fatal. It increases my chances of living longer."

"Amazing!" he said, pulling her up and dancing her around. He was very careful about it, as if Victoria was a porcelain doll. He gracefully dipped her and brought her back up to a standing position.

"Are you okay?" he asked cautiously after his little joyous episode. He wanted to make sure the disease didn't cause her any faintness.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," she said, straightening her still-bloody school uniform. "I... I should change. Can I borrow some of your clothes? For disguise." she explained.

"Of course! And if you need a cap, I have one right here," Tintin said, handing her a brown cap.

Victoria emerged from the other room, fully clothed in a pair of rust-colored pants and a loose-fitting beige dress shirt with a long trench coat. She donned the cap on her head, her long, curly hair tucked carefully into it. Her feminine features gave her away some, but when she bowed her head down, she looked like a man.

"Wow," Tintin said as she walked into the room, her head bowed. "You look just like a genuine man!"

"Thank you," she replied in a deep voice, tipping her cap to him. "Jonathan Samuels, at your service."

"Let's go," he said, grabbing an extra coat from the coat hanger. They made their way down the stairs quietly, avoiding he only one that creaks. Victoria stopped at the door.

"I need to grab something at my apartment, I'll be only a minute," she said, rushing out the door and running into the building next door. She grabbed the essentials from her room: a gun, 2 fighting knives, 1 pocket knife, and ammunition. She switched out her Mary Janes for some boots she purchased at a male clothing store a while back, slipping the 2 fighting knives in secret pocket in each boot. She grabbed the gun and loaded it, putting the munition and extra bullets in the pocket of the pants. She slipped her pocket knife in the outside pocket of the trench coat. She quickly grabbed her fake I.D. card for a man named Jonathan Samuels. She saw in her peripheral vision the glass case that had held the model ship. The glass was broken, the case empty. She sighed, then ran out the door, re entering the adjacent building as quietly as possible. She opened the door upstairs.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Well then, let's go," Tintin said. "First we shall inspect the marketplace. The model could've ended up with Crabtree."

"It could've... But they wouldn't have let the model slip out of their hands that easily," she said. "We are going to go, though. You never know who might be there."

Tintin and Victoria walked the streets of the marketplace. It was the usual hustle and bustle, the same artist cartooning people from the streets, his lines simple and clean.

"Do you want to stop for a picture?" the artist asked, his French accent strong.

"You go ahead Tintin, get a picture done. I'll wait over here," Victoria said in her deep voice, stepping over to the side where Snowy was.

"Hello Milou," she said softly, reciting his French name and stroking him. After a while, Snowy got nervous, perking his ears, his nose pointing towards a man with white hair and nervous eyes, hidden under round glasses and donning a bowler hat. He fiddled with his fingers, which were covered with gray gloves. He starting walking, reaching into people's pockets, grabbing their wallets. Snowy started to run towards him. Victoria tried to stop him, but she was too late. He ran after the pickpocket at lightning speed, but he seemed to be too fast for Snowy. Finally, Tintin's picture was done.

"I believe I have captured something of your likeness," the French man said, showing Tintin the picture. It was simple, but captured his ginger hair and rosy cheeks. His blue sweater with white collar was drawn beneath him, the sweater comically blue, too bright to be worn. But the drawing was a comic, after all.

"Huh, not bad! What do you think... Snowy?" he asked, turning around, looking for Snowy. "Victoria... I mean, Jonathan, where did Snowy run off to?"

"He was following a man," Victoria said, pointing in that direction, "over there." Tintin ran off in that direction. She followed him. He walked briskly towards the mirrors, smoothing his quiff down as he walked, just for it to pop up again. Victoria followed closely behind. Snowy barked rapidly. He had stopped, the pickpocket out of his range. Tintin looked at Victoria, concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Please, don't worry about me. I'm fine," she said as she turned around. Her face turned stark white and her eyes widened.

"The Unicorn," she said faintly. He turned around, noticing the boat encased in glass... In Crabtree's shop. She ran over to the glass, inspecting the model carefully.

"It is," she gasped. "It's exactly the same."

Tintin looked at the model closely. "I can buy it for you," he said. "But… why would the people who stole it just put it on the market?"

"Don't worry, I have money," Victoria said, reaching into the pocket of the trench coat where she had placed her wallet. "Damn!" she screamed. "Someone took my wallet!" She stormed off, trying to find the pickpocket who had been slipping his hands into the unsuspecting pockets of the innocent market goers. Tintin stayed and inspected the model "Isn't she a beauty?" he asked Crabtree.

"Yes. And it's only 2 quid," Crabtree responded. Tintin hesitated for a moment

"I'll give you a pound," he finally said.

"Done!" Crabtree said, seemingly satisfied with the low price. He reached into his pocket, handing Crabtree the money. He suddenly heard a series of shouts, seeming to come from 2 people at once. A loud, defiant voice replied. He ignored it for a minute, sliding his hands into the glass case, slowly pulling the model out.

"Gently does it," Crabtree urged. Just as Tintin completely pulled the model ship out, an American man ran up to him

"Hey bud," he asked Crabtree, "How much for the boat?"

"Sorry, I just sold it to this young gent," he said, pointing to Tintin. The yelling continued, getting closer now.

"Tell me what you payed, and I'll give you double," the American man said, patting at his face with a handkerchief.

"Double?" Crabtree sighed.

"I'm sorry, it's not for sale," Tintin explained.

"Look kid," the man rambled on, "you're walking into a whole mess of danger. These people do not play nice!" he said, running back into the crowd.

"What people?" Tintin asked, confused. He backed up a few steps, backing into a man. he had everything red about him - red jacket, red tie. He seemed to fancy the color red immensely.

"Wonderful," he said. "Just… wonderful. Don't bother wrapping it, I'll take it as is. Does anybody object if I pay by check?" He smoothly pulled out a checkbook.

"I already explained to the other gentleman. it's not for sale," Tintin said.

"Let me appeal to your better nature," the man said, casually putting an arm on Tintin's shoulder. "I have recently acquired Marlinspike Hall, and this ship belongs to the estate."

"Of the late sea captain," Tintin concluded. The yelling was more intense now, just down the street.

"Yes. The family fell upon hard times. We are talking generations of drinking and irrational behavio-"

"I'm sorry. But it's not for sale," Tintin cut him off, going into the direction of the yelling.

"Get off of me you bloody sod!" Victoria screamed, tugging away from the grip of 2 men, wearing suits and bowler hats, their faces exactly the same. _The twins_ Tintin thought.

"Thomson! Thompson! She isn't a criminal!" he yelled.

"She?" they asked confusedly in unison, looking at each other first, then Victoria. She pulled her cap off, letting down her long, curly mass of hair.

"How do you fare?" she asked sarcastically in her normal voice. The twins let go of her.

"Sorry," they both said. Victoria brushed herself off.

"Shall we continue?" Tintin asked Victoria.

"Absolutely," she said, walking ahead, not noticing the Unicorn model that Tintin held ever so carefully in his arms.

**A/N: So, chapter 2! I totally forgot to describe Victoria in the first chapter. She has long, curly brown hair that goes to her armpits, blue eyes, and a permanent scar on her left cheek running down her cheekbone, but that'll be implied later. R&amp;R.**


	3. Chapter 3: Author's Note

Okay, so I've really been slacking off on this story, like all of my other stories. Trust me, I will try my best to continue these, even though some of my info is a bit outdated/hazy/I probably haven't watched this movie/TV show in about a year now. I will be continuing this story, just don't worry. This will appear on all of my stories that I haven't updated in a while (about a year now).


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